𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫, 𝐋𝐢𝐚𝐫 | 𝐉𝐉 𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐤

20. the proverbial cherry.

T W E N T Y
the proverbial cherry.

There are moments in life when time seems to grind to a halt, everything around you stops in place as your mind gets stuck on something it can't believe is happening.

Good things seldom are the things that slow down time, good things make it speed up and blur together. Guns being shoved in your face – that's what really makes time slow down. Having the cold, deadly metal sat inches in front of your nose, aimed right where you wouldn't have a chance in Hell at surviving. With the curl of a finger around the trigger the lump of metal will be buried so deep in my brain it'll be mush before I can feel pain. And then it's over.

My entire body is stiff, terror gripping every fibre of my being. But there's also a small shred of peace, a tiny part of me that wouldn't care. I wouldn't even know it happened.

I'm no James Bond, I can't grab the gun from his grip, turn it around on him and make him do a silly little dance. No, I'm Mabel Francesca Marcus, I freeze and possibly shit myself. I'm the one doing silly little dances on command at the threat of my nails being pulled off.

My eyes can see his mouth moving, I can see the air tossed against my face as he shouts at me. He's animated and angry, almost certainly on drugs, just like Rafe.

I've spent too much time with Barry, with him hitting on me, offering me free drugs for a blowy, always insisting Rafe never had to know. When we'd stay at his stuffy trailer because Rafe fell asleep I could never leave fast enough, he'd also get grabby, whispering that Rafe was asleep. He was either too off his head to see him uncomfortable I was, or he didn't care that I clearly just wanted to leave. To run down the street to another dilapidated house to get the frustration out.

He's definitely shouting orders, telling me what to do with the express threat of if I don't follow said orders I'll get a bullet to my brain – but said brain, is deciding now's the time to short circuit and not let Frankie hear the orders.

I'm acutely aware that Barry really has fuck all to lose, his family is either dead or in prison, the only people that hang out with him are there for the drugs, and he has no prospects for anything bigger than begging teenage girls for blow jobs in exchange for some drugs. So, shooting one of the girls that repeatedly turned him down, wouldn't really ruin his life. There isn't much to ruin.

No offence. Peace and love, obviously.

His beady, intense glare tears off me, taking a step back the car begins shuffling as people begin moving. A warm, calloused hand wraps around my bicep and I'm pulled from the van.

"Mabel, you need to breathe," JJ grits forcefully. Not the least bit sympathetic.

Through wide, blurry eyes I just stare at him. He looks tense, his fingers dig into the flesh of my arm with no remorse, I highly doubt he realises how hard the tips of his fingers are pressing into my arm because it's very painful. I am not someone who bruises that easily, but I know this is going to leave a mark – but I can't get the words 'you're hurting me out', they just get stuck as his grip tightens when his eyes find Barry, no doubt still aiming the gun lethally. I don't want to look away and face reality, so I don't, I just look at JJ, who looks so unbelievably angry. Clearly fed up with it all; with everything that always goes wrong, no matter how hard we try to have just one thing so smoothly. He stands between Barry and myself, wedged between us so I'd have to take a step to even look at the man, anyway.

"All right! Just relax!" JJ shouts at Barry. Giving so much anger my heart rate speeds up. I wish I wasn't like this, I wish someone shouting at someone else didn't make me panic this much. He's not even angry at me – at least I don't think he is. I hope not. I don't want him to be angry at me, I don't like it when we're not getting along.